


Haze

by molossiamerica (afjakwrites)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Brainwashing, LMAO, M/M, Mind Control, Secret Identities, for once alfred is the damsel in distress and arthur is the hero, lmao russia is Frostbite, super strength, superhero au, the white witch is belarus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-08-03 17:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16330454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afjakwrites/pseuds/molossiamerica
Summary: Alfred is kidnapped by the villain Frostbite, prompting the city’s most famous superhero, Haze, to come to his rescue.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> previously posted on my writing blog @afjakwrites on tumblr. enjoy!

Alfred’s day had started out average enough. He’d gotten up at 7AM on the dot and groggily readied himself for class, sleep still heavy upon his eyes. He’d stopped for an iced coffee to wake himself up, sat through three mind-numbing lectures, and promptly left campus in favor of his part-time job at a fast food restaurant.

Even the walk had been average, until the very end. He was nearing the end of his twenty-minute endeavor, headphones in his ears and a granola bar half-eaten in his hand, when he felt an arm at the small of his back followed by another at the underside of his knees. Alfred hardly had the time to cry out before he’d been scooped bodily off the ground and lifted into the air. 

Alfred looked into the face of his captor, eyes widening at the sight of the man. It was none other than the notorious supervillain that had been terrorizing his city for several months – a man the newspapers had dubbed Frostbite for his uncanny ability to produce ice whenever and wherever he wanted. The man wore a mask that only partially obscured his face, leaving his eyes and thin, pale lips visible. 

“Hey! Put me the fuck down!” Alfred shouted, immediately beginning to squirm in the man’s hold.

Frostbite hardly spared him a glance. “I do not think you would like to be dropped from this height,” he said, rolling a pair of violet eyes so bright they nearly glowed as he spoke.

Alfred glanced downward, jaw immediately dropping at the sight of the ground far beneath them. Alfred let out a squeak of surprise, unconsciously gripping the fabric of the Frostbite’s shirt in one hand. “T-Take me back! I don’t have anything you want, okay?!”

“That you’re right about,” the man nodded sagely as he flew to the top of a building some forty-something stories above the ground. “But you know Haze, and that makes you useful.” 

“ _Haze_?!” Alfred echoed, astonished at the mention of the city’s strongest and most famous superhero. His bright eyes blinked incredulously at the man. “Dude, I don’t know Haze!” 

Frostbite shook his head, setting Alfred on his feet. “No, you just don’t know that you know him. Stay right here.” 

Alfred huffed. “Like hell I will!” He cried, immediately making a break for the hatch on the other side of the roof that would lead into the building. He’d hardly started running when he felt something harden around his left foot, stopping him in his place. Alfred fell forward with a cry of surprise, his hands slamming into the concrete as he caught his fall. 

Frostbite approached and glared down at him. Then, he bent down and took Alfred by the bicep, wrenching him off the ground. 

“Get off of me!” Alfred hollered, jerking himself away from the man. 

His left foot was still frozen to the concrete, but he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try to get away. Alfred formed a fist with his right hand and swung out with all his might, only for the villain to catch his fist without batting an eye. Alfred’s eyes went wide in horror and he attempted to pull back once again, but this time Frostbite held him in place. 

“Do not try that again,” Frostbite growled. 

Alfred ignored his warning, blue eyes ablaze. He sneered back at the man and swung his left hand out, managing to deliver an open-handed slap to Frostbite’s face. The villain froze momentarily, shocked, and Alfred attempted to use the man’s surprise to pull himself away. Then, Frostbite let out a snarl of anger and captured Alfred’s other wrist in his hand. The ice around Alfred’s foot dissolved and Frostbite twisted the American around, forcing his wrists behind his back. In the next second, a pair of ice-cold handcuffs had formed around Alfred’s wrists, binding them together behind his back. 

“Y-You can’t just kidnap random people, you know!” Alfred cried, enraged and fearful. 

Frostbite spun him back around, meeting his gaze. Then, he grinned wickedly and took Alfred’s chin in a cold, pale palm. “Why not? I must admit, you are rather adorable when you’re angry. I understand now why you are Haze’s weakness.”

“I already fucking told you, I don’t know Haze, you crazy bas–”

“Get away from him!” Interrupted a sudden, strangely familiar voice. 

Alfred whipped around, mouth falling open at the sight of Haze landing atop the building. Unlike Frostbite, Haze’s dark green mask obscured the entirety of his face. Even his eyes were covered by a black mesh material, leaving only his shaggy mop of blond hair visible. 

“Ah, you’ve finally arrived. I’ve been listening to your ridiculous friend complain for far too long,” Frostbite said, wrenching Alfred closer to him. 

“Take your hands off of him, Frostbite, before I break them.” Haze threatened, his British-accented voice a dark growl.

Haze was by far the most powerful hero in the city, Alfred knew. He possessed many powers, such as super strength and rapid healing. His most famous power, of course, was his ability to manipulate the minds of others. Those who had experienced it often described it as a sort of haze which came over their minds when under his power, leading to his being dubbed Haze. If he got ahold of one’s mind, they would be defenseless to him until released, incapable of disobedience. 

Which, of course, had lead many villains in the city to develop helmets or masks which blocked out Haze’s powers. Frostbite was wearing one such mask, meaning that Haze would have no chance of stopping him until he could physically overpower him–a challenging feat considering the young man currently captive in Frostbite’s arms. 

“I don’t think so – not until you surrender to me, that is.” Frostbite laughed.

Alfred struggled against the villain’s hold, trying his best to break away from the man’s bruising grip on his waist. Frostbite merely wrenched him backward again, Alfred’s back pressed to his chest. One of Frostbite’s gloved hands snaked over Alfred’s shoulder and wrapped itself around the man’s neck, gripping it tightly. Alfred shuddered at the cold touch and craned his neck in a futile attempt to escape the man’s hold. 

Haze stalked closer. “Let him go, Frostbite. He’s an innocent civilian – he has nothing to do this.”

Frostbite laughed and gave Alfred’s neck a squeeze, making the man gasp aloud. “You think I don’t know your relationship to this man? You think I don’t know who you are, Haze? How weak you are? What a fool you’ve made yourself into, all for his sake? I know you know him. I know you love him, too. Don’t pretend the sight of my hands on him isn’t killing you, _Arthur_.” 

Alfred stalled momentarily, eyes widening as the pieces suddenly clicked into place. It couldn’t be – no, Haze wasn’t his best friend, was he? But that was Arthur’s voice, wasn’t it? And that hair! Yes, that was definitely Arthur’s hair – that gorgeous pale blond mop Alfred so longed to run his hands through. Hell, now that Alfred thought about it, Haze even looked to be about Arthur’s height. Realization fell upon Alfred and he looked to the hero, staring directly into the formless black mesh that obscured his best friend’s eyes. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Haze growled. “I don’t know this man, but I know that he’s done nothing to warrant this. Let him go, Frostbite. He’s not who you want.”

“No,” Frostbite agreed, sneering, “he’s who  _you_  want.” 

“I already said that I don’t know him, damn it. Let him go!” Haze demanded, lunging forward.

“Not so fast!” Frostbite hollered, dragging Alfred back until he was just out of reach. Then, his strong hand was squeezing Alfred’s neck and Alfred’s eyes bulged as he desperately sucked in air. “I know you love him, Arthur. I know you’d do anything to keep him alive. All you have to do is give in and I’ll let him go.” 

“Arthur,” Alfred gasped out desperately, his eyes beginning to sting with tears as he struggled insistently in Frostbite’s hold.

“Let him go!” Haze screamed, racing forward.

This time, Frostbite threw Alfred down upon the ground on his back, the man’s glasses slipping from his face as he fell. In the next second, Alfred’s head smacked roughly against the concrete and he let out a shrill cry of pain as stars flew across his vision. Frostbite bent over him with a malicious smile and what appeared to be a piece of ice sharpened into a dagger in one hand, bringing it quickly to his neck. 

“Surrender to me and I’ll let him go,” Frostbite growled, turning to look up at Haze with a wicked grin. 

Then, he wrenched Alfred back to his feet a second time and resumed their original position, Alfred’s back pressed against his chest and one of Frostbite’s arms wrapped securely around his waist, holding him in place with an inhuman strength. His other gloved hand held the ice-dagger, keeping it a mere inch from Alfred’s neck. Alfred felt ice creeping over his feet and chanced a glance down, watching in horror as ice crawled up his feet and stopped at his ankles, locking him in place.

Haze took another careful step forward, raising both hands in surrender. “What do you want from me?”

“First, you’ll let me restrain you,” said Frostbite. 

“I’m not doing anything you say until you step away from him.” Haze growled out, his tone low and dangerous. 

“And give you the chance to save him? Your damsel in distress will be released once I have you. Until then, he stays right here.”

“At least put the dagger down.”

Frostbite paused momentarily and then sighed, allowing the ice-dagger to dissolve into thin air as though it had never existed. Alfred paused, watching as Haze began taking slow, careful steps forward. Alfred’s eyes peered desperately into the black fabric behind which he knew Haze’s eyes were and he could have sworn he saw a flicker of green. Instantly, Alfred knew he had to do something. He couldn’t let Arthur turn himself in to a villain! 

Haze continued to come forward. Alfred waited until he was within arms reach of Haze and then did the only thing he could think to with his hands tied behind his back and his feet immobile; he jerked his head back as hard as he could, gritting his teeth when the back of his head collided with Frostbite’s nose. 

From there, several things happened in quick succession. Frostbite let out a cry of shock and stumbled back a step as the mask fell from his face. Haze surged forward without hesitation, shoving Frostbite back with all the force he had. Alfred gaped, astonished, as Frostbite flew several feet back and slammed into the concrete on the opposite side of the roof. 

“ _Stay down_!” Haze hollered, and Alfred watched in shock as Frostbite’s arms dropped limp at his sides and he lay still on the concrete. Haze reached out and took Frostbite’s mask in his hand, crushing it in his fist. 

Still, Haze knew that wouldn’t stop Frostbite for long. He was susceptible to mind manipulation without the mask, but he was also strong. Haze knew he would break free soon enough and attempt to retaliate. 

Thus, Haze easily tossed Alfred over his shoulder and ran to the edge of the building. He leapt over the edge instantly and the pair plummeted to the ground, stopping only seconds before they hit the ground as Haze activated one of the trademark aspects of his suit–boots that gave him the ability to fly.

They touched the ground and Haze looked up, relieved to see that Frostbite wasn’t following them. He took off down the street running, holding tight to Alfred over his shoulder, and carted him toward an alley. He pulled open the back door to the nearest shop and they entered what appeared to be a storage closet. After locking the door, Haze sighed in relief and finally set Alfred on his feet. 

“Are you alright?” The hero asked, his chest heaving. He reached out as though he wanted to take Alfred into his arms, only to retract as soon as he realized what he was doing. 

“Y-Yeah,” Alfred answered with a nod of his head. “Thanks for, y’know, saving me, but could you…?” Alfred trailed off as he turned around, revealing that his wrists were still bound behind his back. 

“Oh! Yes, of course.” Haze replied, taking hold of the ice-cold cuffs in one hand and snapping them off easily.

Alfred grinned and turned back to face the man. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Now, if you’re alright I have some other things to attend to…” Haze trailed off awkwardly and started toward the door. 

“Woah, woah, woah!” Alfred yelped, leaping in front of the door. “No way, man. First you have to show me who you are.”

“What? No! I’ve already told you several times that I don’t know you. Whoever Frostbite thought I was, he was wrong. I’m not your friend, although I do apologize for the confusion.”

“If you’re not Arthur then why won’t you show me? You sound like him, you have hair like him, you’re the same height as him… Tell me or I’m not gonna let you go.”

“You realize I’m fully capable of making you do whatever I say, don’t you?” Haze threatened, although any malice was absent from his voice. 

Alfred raised a brow. “I don’t think you have it in you to use your powers on me.” He challenged, a teasing grin on his face. “That’d be breaking my trust, and that’s definitely not something a best friend does.”

“You’d have no idea. I could wipe this whole thing from your head,” Haze threatened, sounding somewhat amused. He took a step closer. 

Alfred grinned down at him. “But you won’t,” he replied cheekily. “I know you. I know you’d feel guilty.” 

“Oh? And what makes you think I–ah!” Haze let out a sharp cry of surprise as Alfred very abruptly leapt forward, both hands closing around the mask that obscured the entirety of his face. In the next second, Alfred had wrenched it down, exposing Haze’s face. 

Instead of the loud, enthusiastic cry Arthur had been expecting, Alfred’s shoulders slumped and he gazed at his best friend with wide-eyed wonder. 

“Arthur,” he whispered, the word falling from his lips as though it were sacred.

Unsure of what to say, Arthur merely looked down and bit at his bottom lip. “Alfred… Believe me, I wanted to tell you, it’s just so dangerous, I–”

“He said you loved me.” Alfred interrupted. “Was that true?”

Arthur’s green eyes flickered with surprise and he looked up. “Do you want the truth?”

“Of course I do.”

Arthur nodded solemnly. “Alright,” he answered, reaching forward to place both of his gloved hands on Alfred’s suntanned cheeks. Then, echoing the younger man; “ _of course I do_. Of course, Alfred. I can hardly believe you didn’t realize it before now.”

Alfred grinned triumphantly and tugged Arthur forward before the man could protest, capturing his lips. Arthur couldn’t help but to dissolve into him, moaning aloud against Alfred’s lips. They kissed for only a moment before Alfred pulled away, a familiar fire born from excitement clear in his eyes. 

“Dude, I can’t believe you’re a superhero! I mean, you’re  _Haze_! You’re the most badass hero in the whole city! Holy shit, I’m in love with the most legendary hero ever. Holy shit! I get to date a superhero!” Alfred cried excitedly, his eyes frenzied and the boyish grin Arthur so adored split across his face. 

“Unfortunately, darling, you won’t be able to do that,” Arthur murmured gently, face ashen and still cupping Alfred’s cheeks in his hands. 

“What?” Alfred asked, confusion overtaking happiness immediately. “Arthur, what do you mean?”

Arthur’s green eyes fell to the floor, stinging with the beginnings of tears in his eyes. When he finally forced himself to look back into Alfred’s face, the American was frowning at him, worried. When Alfred saw the tears in his eyes, his mouth fell open in shock and he reached forward instantly. 

“Dude, what’s wrong? What did I do?”

God, Arthur’s heart hurt. “Nothing,” he said with a shake of his head. “You didn’t do anything. It’s just, Frostbite is still out there and he thinks you know me. If he ever realized that that was true… God, I can’t imagine what he’d do to you, Alfred. He’s figured out who I am–at least, he thinks he has. If you ever accidentally let it slip–if anyone ever overhead–”

“What? Arthur, no, I would never tell anyone! I swear I’ll keep it quiet. I swear!” Alfred protested, seeming to realize what Arthur intended to do.

“It’s safer if you have no idea at all. There are other villains with powers like mine in this city, Alfred, and now they all think that you know me. If you know me they’ll get in your head and figure it out, even if you never say anything. You have to have no idea.”

“No,” Alfred said, shaking his head. “B-But–what about what you said? The kiss? What about us?” 

“It’s better if you don’t remember that either. Being with you will only make it harder to hide it.”

Alfred was shaking his head rapidly now. “Arthur, please, c’mon. I swear this can work, we can make it work!”

Arthur shook his head, tears pooling in his eyes now. “I’m sorry. We can’t, Alfred.”

Alfred shoved Arthur’s hands away from his face and took a step back as though that would protect him from Arthur’s powers.

“You can’t,” Alfred said, shaking his head. “I won’t let you!”

“I’m sorry, darling, but you don’t have a choice,” Arthur murmured as he stepped forward. 

Alfred whipped around and grabbed the doorknob, attempting to wrench the door open–as if he had any real chance of escape. 

 _“Stop, Alfred. Turn and face me,_ ” Arthur commanded sadly. 

Alfred turned around mechanically, arms limp at his sides and his eyes blank. His face was void of all emotion, eyes hooded and gazing blindly into Arthur’s face. Guilt fell heavily upon Arthur, settling upon his shoulders like a weight as he stared into the expressionless face of the man he loved. 

“ _You will forget everything about Haze’s true identity, Alfred. You have no clue who Haze is, nor are you very determined to find out. You are certain that after Haze rescued you, he merely set you down on the sidewalk and left. You are now going to leave and awaken on the sidewalk, where you will begin walking home._ ”

With that said, Arthur quickly pulled the mask back over his face and dropped his influence over Alfred. The younger man turned around, still with that same blank look in his eyes, and walked out as he’d been instructed. Arthur let out a heavy sigh and waited a few moments before exiting himself, heading back to his apartment with a heavy heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for descriptions of violence, blood, and guns.

At six o’ clock on the dot, Arthur arrived at the warehouse and nervously stepped inside. He was covered from head-to-toe in his deep green and black suit, his mask firmly in place, the belt looped around his waist carrying several weapons. His eyes darted around in every direction as he walked further into the dark, run-down building. It was nearing nightfall, the sun just barely shining in through the holes in the ceiling and casting the occasional ray of light upon the dirt-covered concrete below. There didn’t seem to be anyone there, but Arthur was certain this was the place–the text had been very clear about the meeting spot.

Arthur’s heart pounded madly in his chest as he thought back upon what had brought him there. Earlier that day, whilst he was at his day job at a bookstore, he’d received a video message from Alfred. At first he’d ignored it, seeing as he was at work and he knew Alfred liked to send ‘meme’ videos that Arthur rolled his eyes at quite regularly, but when the video message was followed up with the words “ _answer your fucking texts_ ,” Arthur grew somewhat worried. It was uncharacteristic of Alfred to be so aggressive unprovoked, meaning there was something seriously wrong. Arthur had quickly taken his fifteen minute break and headed to the back room, clicking on the video the moment he was alone.

To his utter horror, the video showed none other than his doe-eyed best friend and secret love sitting slumped in a wooden chair. His ankles were bound to the legs of the chair and his arms were bound behind his back. His head hung forward, face toward the ground, the golden blond hair Arthur so often dreamt of running his fingers through obscuring his face.

“No no no, Alfred, no sleeping until you answer my questions,” said a familiar voice in a sickeningly innocent tone from behind the camera.

Then, as Arthur expected, the figure of Frostbite stepped into the camera. The man leaned in and leered into the lens for a moment before he approached Alfred, taking the man by the chin and forcing his head up harshly.

Arthur had to clasp a hand over his mouth at the sight of Alfred’s face, stifling a cry of shock and outrage. Blood was dripping from Alfred’s nose, lips, and the side of his head. His glasses were nowhere to be seen and his right eye was an angry red color that Arthur knew would be blue and swollen within a few hours. As he looked closer, he noticed that the knees of Alfred’s jeans were scraped through and caked in dirt and that the left sleeve of his t-shirt had been torn entirely off, allowing Arthur to see the angry red scratch marks and bruises that ran up the length of his arm and across his shoulder. Arthur could hardly stand the sight, feeling hot tears well up instantly.

“Hey! Answer me!” Frostbite demanded, taking Alfred by the shoulder and giving him a violent shake.

Alfred groaned, his eyelids fluttering and then slowly opening. Frostbite bent over him and gave him another shake. “Don’t you dare close your eyes again,” he growled before releasing Alfred, who slumped back into the chair weakly. “Now, Alfred, I know you know Haze, even if you do not remember him. Tell me about Arthur Kirkland and I’ll let you go.”

“‘Dunno who the fuck yer talkin’ about,” Alfred slurred, his head rolling to the side.

“Do not lie to me. You are Arthur Kirkland’s best friend. This is your last warning: tell me where to find him or else.”

Alfred glared. “Fuck you,” he spat.

“Wrong answer!” Frostbite chimed cheerfully as he raised a palm and smacked Alfred’s face so hard the chair toppled over, both it and Alfred slamming roughly against the concrete. Alfred’s head slammed against the floor and his eyes fell closed again. Frostbite stalked forward, taking him by the hair and lifting his head up off the ground. He turned toward the camera. “If you have any interest in saving your friend, I suggest you come to the location I’ve texted at six o’ clock tonight–any earlier or later and I’ll kill him.”

Frostbite then stood up, waved cheerfully to the camera, and stopped recording.

Arthur had been utterly horrified, of course–fear had lodged itself deep within him immediately upon seeing Alfred tied up. Thoughtless of everything aside from the man he loved, Arthur had made a mad dash out of work, yelling to his boss that he had a family emergency as he sprinted out of the shop and down the couple blocks to his apartment. He’d quickly changed into his suit, gathering as many weapons as he possibly could in what little time he had. It was five thirty by the time he set off for the warehouse, flying there as fast as he could and arriving exactly on time, to his relief.

Which lead him to where he was now: wandering around inside of an empty old building with a hand on his holster and his teeth gritted. He was making his way slowly toward the back, where he knew there were more rooms, when a sudden cry of his name pierced through the silence, echoing loudly. Arthur whipped around toward the source of the noise, shocked to see Alfred burst through a door on the opposite side of the room and immediately begin sprinting toward him.

Arthur gasped in relief and rushed forward, nearly letting out a sob of relief when Alfred collided with him, dropping into his open arms. Arthur wrapped both arms tightly around the American, heartbroken over the way he trembled and buried his face into his shoulder.

“Arthur,” Alfred gasped out around wet tears, “Frostbite’s here, we have to go, we have to–”  
  


Arthur pulled back and cupped Alfred’s face in his gloved hands, looking him over. To his shock, Alfred’s face was black and blue all over and he appeared to have sustained even more injuries than had been shown in the video. Christ, it must have been taken  _hours_ ago. Frostbite had been torturing Alfred for god knows how long and he’d had no idea. Arthur was enraged, but he knew he had to focus on getting Alfred to safety. He was just about to lift the American up and speed him away when he realized something and paused.

“…Alfred, how do you know who I am?” He asked.

Alfred’s eyes ran down Arthur’s masked face and Arthur noticed an odd blank look to them, as if they weren’t truly seeing him. “W-Well, they texted you that I was here and you came for me. How would Haze know to come here if he hadn’t gotten the text?”

Arthur nodded, accepting this answer. Alfred was acting somewhat strange, but he chalked it up to trauma–he had just been tortured by Frostbite and it was clear he’d suffered quite a bit of physical damage. So, Arthur scooped Alfred into his arms and felt his cheeks go red when the younger man slung his arms across Arthur’s shoulders and buried his face in the crook of his neck without hesitation. Usually Alfred would be quick to protest being treated like a ‘damsel’–after all, he believed himself to be a hero–but it seemed that he’d been through too much to care.

Arthur began his run to the door, only to gasp in pain and collapse to the floor when a searing pain like a shock of electricity started at his back and quickly took over his body. He dropped Alfred, the American hitting the ground and quickly rolling away. The pain subsided enough for Arthur to look up from his position trembling on the ground, gaping at the sight of Alfred rising to his feet with his eyes glazed over and what Arthur recognized as a stun wand gripped tightly in one hand.

Arthur pushed through the pain and forced himself to his knees, moving to stand as well. As he did so, though, Alfred reached behind him and, to Arthur’s utter shock, procured a handgun from his belt.

“Don’t move,” he said blankly as he raised the gun and aimed at Arthur, who had frozen in place and was gaping at him in wide-eyed shock, although his mask obscured his expression.

“A-Alfred,” Arthur gasped, “what are you doing?”

Alfred didn’t respond and Arthur was about to prompt him again when a new voice, yet again familiar to Arthur, spoke out from behind him.

“Don’t bother speaking to him,” said someone in a low, thickly accented voice. Arthur knew who it was immediately and twisted around slightly to catch a glimpse of the White Witch herself striding forward with a smug smile playing at her lips. At her side was Frostbite, grinning down at Arthur.  “He won’t answer; not unless I tell him to. And even then, he’ll only say what I tell him to.”

Arthur gritted his teeth. “Get out of his head,” he spat contemptuously.

“Why? He has such a pretty mind. So easily manipulated, too. Did you know that he’s in love with you?  _Crazy about you_ , he said.  _Head over heels._  Poor thing. That just makes it all the more fun for me when he hurts you.”

Arthur trembled, looking into Alfred’s face; blank, numb, hollow. His eyes were lifeless and his body eerily still.  _Brainwashed._  Alfred had been brainwashed, used, and hurt and it was all Arthur’s fault. It made Arthur’s heart ache.

“So? What do you say, Arthur? Let Frostbite take your weapons and restrain you, or Alfred’ll kill you.”

“Never,” Arthur ground out. “I’ll never go with you.”

“Oh?” Frostbite smiled and approached Alfred, cupping his face. Alfred didn’t even blink. “We were easy on him earlier, but we don’t have to be. Now that you’re here, we don’t care whether he’s dead or alive.”

The White Witch rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to sit around while you beat the shit out of him,” she huffed. “We’re doing this my way. Alfred, you can take the gun off of Haze.”

Both Frostbite and Arthur looked to her in confusion as Alfred lowered the gun, but she grinned. “Thank you, sweetheart. Now, go on and put it to your head.”

Arthur let out a cry of outrage before he could stop himself. His heart stuttered in his chest and he suddenly felt as though he couldn’t breathe, watching as Alfred raised the gun and aimed at himself.

“Well, Arthur? You have two choices–you give yourself up and we let Alfred live, or you don’t give yourself up, Alfred kills himself, and then we take you anyway.”

Arthur could hardly find the strength to breathe as he gazed at Alfred standing in front of him, unseeing, the barrel of a gun pressed against his temple. “No,” he gasped out, “God, don’t, I’ll–I’ll go with you.”

Both Frostbite and the White Witch grinned. “Stand up and let me take your weapons,” Frostbite commanded.

Arthur did as he was told, gulping as Frostbite came forward and un-clipped his belt of weapons, quickly pulling it off. Arthur’s mind was screaming at him to do something,  _anything_  to fix this, but he was paralyzed in fear by the sight of the gun at Alfred’s head. He couldn’t possibly do anything that would result in Alfred’s death, and thus he allowed Frostbite to toss his weapons to the White Witch without a word.

Arthur looked into Alfred’s face and gulped, channeling his powers. Usually if someone already had control over another’s mind, it was be impossible to fight it off, but he knew he had to try. Arthur focused in on Alfred, mentally pushing at him as he attempted to sway the American towards his side. He thought he saw Alfred tremble, if only for a second, and continued even as Frostbite took him by the wrists and he felt ice cold chains wrap themselves around him, locking his hands behind his back. Arthur continued to push outward, desperate, begging Alfred to come back to him, pushing out every single emotion he felt in hopes of getting a reaction. He pushed the overwhelming fear and desperation out first, urging Alfred to help him.

Arthur could feel Alfred’s mind give way the slightest bit and he pushed out again, desperate. This time, he tried to shove as many memories of their friendship upon Alfred as he could. Alfred’s lips trembled and Arthur could have sworn he saw the American’s hand twitch. Arthur could feel his mind wavering, could sense that Alfred was actively straining against the White Witch’s powers, and so Arthur pushed forward the strongest emotion he could forth.

Love. Unconditional, unwavering love. Arthur poured every single ounce of love he felt for Alfred unto the man, watching in shock as Alfred’s blank eyes became glossy and wet with tears. Arthur continued, pushing against the White Witch’s grip until Alfred finally gave way. The gun fell from Alfred’s hands, clattering to the floor at the same time as the man himself let out a gasp and slumped to the floor on his knees.

“Hey! What’s wrong with you?!” The White Witch cried, rushing forward.

Arthur didn’t have to tell Alfred to pick up the gun–Alfred had already snatched it off the ground and scrambled backward, quickly taking aim at her.

“Ivan! Do something!” The White Witch hollered, but Arthur had already whirled around and swept Frostbite’s feet out from underneath him.

His hands were still bound behind his back, but Arthur wasn’t deterred in the slightest. The moment Frostbite hit the floor, Arthur kicked him as hard as he could, watching as the man groaned aloud and the mask fell from his face. Once again he was vulnerable to Arthur’s powers and Arthur quickly put him under, time mentally instructing him to apprehend the White Witch and deliver both her and himself to the authorities. First, though, Arthur had him dissolve his restraints and sighed in relief when his arms were free once more.

As Ivan got to his feet and quickly apprehended the White Witch, who was hollering at him the whole time, Arthur quickly rushed to Alfred’s aid. The man was in terrible shape and Arthur knew that all the pain and fatigue kept at bay by the White Witch’s spell had now returned full force. Even so, Alfred maintained his grip on the gun as he forced himself to his feet and stumbled into Arthur.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Arthur said softly, wrapping a steadying arm around the man’s waist. Behind him he could hear the White Witch screaming at Frostbite to let her go, but when Arthur cast a glance over his shoulder Frostbite had her slung over his shoulder and was walking her mindlessly out of the building.

Arthur pulled Alfred out of the building in the opposite direction, easing him to sit on the ground outside once he was sure Frostbite and the White Witch weren’t coming back after them. He then knelt beside Alfred, doing a quick once-over of the man’s injuries. He was in far worse condition than he’d been in when Arthur had first seen the video, black and blue bruises having taken over both of his arms and the right side of his face. His clothes were torn and blood stained them. Arthur could only imagine what sort of bruises and scrapes lay beneath his torn jeans and t-shirt.

“You need a hospital,” Arthur said gently as he moved to hook an arm around Alfred’s knees.

“Wait,” Alfred said, shaking his head. He set the gun on the ground beside him and reached out with shaky hands, his knuckles scraped and bloodied. He slowly pulled the mask off of Arthur’s head and smiled dazedly. “That’s better,” he murmured.

Arthur allowed a small smile to slip onto his face in response. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you,” he murmured.

Alfred shook his head. “‘S okay. ‘M just glad you’re okay. I was so scared I was gonna hurt you, that they’d take you,” he replied, lip trembling as he spoke.

“I’m so sorry you got dragged into this, Alfred. I was trying to keep you as far from it as possible but now I see that keeping you in the dark was only hurting you further. You deserve to know if you’re in danger.”

“Thanks, Artie,” Alfred said with a sweet smile. “If you have any more mind-blowing secrets to share, now might be a good time to tell me.”

“I can think of one,” Arthur said, grinning. “Although I’m sure you know by now, I’d like to make it clear that I’m bloody mad for you.”

Alfred beamed up at him. “Dude, same,” he replied cheekily. “I’m totally gonna make out with you after I get cleaned up.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred isn’t sure how to react when he discovers that Arthur has used his powers on him in the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like an angsty hurt/comfort chapter based on an idea by @inkwells-writing on tumblr! As always, this was also posted to my writing blog @afjakwrites.

“Hey, Arthur?” 

“Mhm?” Arthur asked, looking up as Alfred walked into his living room, gorgeous golden hair damp and cheeks flushed red from the hot shower he’d just taken. 

It had been almost a week since Arthur had saved Alfred from Frostbite and the White Witch. To their relief, the two villains had been apprehended by the police and were currently in jail. Arthur couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty about their fates, especially when he was looking at his boyfriend, who was still sporting numerous bruises and bandages from the incident. The deep purple scattered across Alfred’s cheek from where Frostbite had slapped him was still particularly prominent, and the sight of it hurt Arthur’s heart so badly that he pushed himself off of the couch and walked to Alfred, slipping his arms around the man. 

Alfred returned the embrace easily, folding Arthur into his arms as if it was what he’d always been meant to do. “I was just thinking about something while I was in the shower and I wanted to ask you about it.”

“Of course, darling. What is it?” Arthur asked, his voice half-muffled by Alfred’s chest. 

“Well, I was just wondering… The White Witch seemed upset that I didn’t know you were Haze at first, and she was yelling at Frostbite about lying to her. Then Frostbite said that you must have fucked with my head or something, because he’d clearly said more than once that you were Haze when he’d kidnapped me. Only, I don’t remember him mentioning you by your actual name a single time.”

Arthur tensed in Alfred’s arms and then pulled back just enough to look into Alfred’s eyes. His grip around the man’s waist tightened as he spoke, “Frostbite was telling the truth,” he started. “I… I erased your memory of some of what happened.”

Arthur could feel Alfred seem to freeze in his hold. “What? Why?” Alfred asked worriedly, hurt immediately pooling in his sweet blue eyes. 

“Because after I saved you, I took you to the nearest empty room I could find. I was just trying to make sure you were alright, but you  pulled off my mask and found out who I was. And… I admitted I loved you, and we kissed. And then I erased your memory.”

For a moment, Alfred was completely still and silent. Then, with an unnervingly blank look in his eyes, he pulled away from Arthur and sank down onto the couch, staring forward at the wall. “...Huh,” he said slowly, processing this. 

Worried, Arthur quickly followed him to the couch, sitting beside him and reaching out to rest a hand on Alfred’s knee. “Believe me, I didn’t want to. I’d wanted you for so long, and you were so happy that we were going to be together, but I… I couldn’t think of another way to keep you safe at the time. I thought that you not knowing who I was would keep you safe, make you less of a target. But they used you as bait anyway, and I’m so, so sorry.” 

Alfred’s blank look fell away, replaced quickly by the most astoundingly heartbreaking expression of anguish Arthur had ever seen. “You--” Alfred started, only to cut himself off when he choked on the beginnings of a sob. He sucked a breath in through his teeth and tried again, “You let me confess to you, and you still took away my memories?”

Arthur bit back tears, unable to remain calm when Alfred was clearly so broken. “I didn’t want to,” he said quickly, desperately, “it was so hard, Alfred. I thought I was protecting you. I--I confessed to you too! It was hard for me to know that you were there and that I couldn’t have you no matter how bad I wanted you.”

“At least you  _ knew _ I loved you back,” Alfred hissed, abruptly scooting away from Arthur, retracting from his touch as though he’d been burned. “They made me--when she had me, she made me admit it. H-How much I loved you. I was gushing over you like an idiot and I was so embarrassed when I came out of it, I was so hurt and scared you’d find out and you--you  _ knew. _ That whole time, you knew I was in love with you.” His lips were trembling, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

Arthur broke. “I know it was wrong, Alfred, and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, I--”

“They beat the  _ shit _ out of me, Arthur,” Alfred said, and regretted it immediately when Arthur’s face fell. He knew Arthur blamed himself for what happened. “No--I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t--it wasn’t your fault, I just--I could have at least  _ known _ why they were hurting me so bad.”

Arthur clamped a hand over his mouth, choking back a sob at his boyfriend’s words. “I know,” he whimpered, his voice watery, “I know. God, I’m so--I’m so, so fucking sorry.”

Alfred hated himself for making Arthur cry, but he couldn’t bring himself to comfort him--not when so many questions were burning holes in his brain, not when he felt so betrayed by the person he’d been so certain would never hurt him. 

“How many other times have you done that to me?” 

“ _ Never _ !” Arthur cried immediately, and nearly burst into tears when he saw the skepticism etched into Alfred’s features. God, he’d broken his trust. Their relationship had hardly even begun and he’d already ruined it. “That was the first time and the last, Alfred, I  _ swear _ . And I know that doesn’t make it right, and that my reasons don’t justify it, but I promise you that I never, never wanted to hurt you, and I would never have done it if I thought there was any other way to protect you.” 

Alfred continued to stare at him, gulping. He didn’t know what to think. “You… You know how much it means to be to be independent, to know that I can make my own decisions. You took that away from me, Arthur.” He broke down, choking on the tail end of his boyfriend’s name as his tears returned with a vengeance, burning trails down his red hot cheeks. 

Arthur didn’t know what else to do other than reach out, taking Alfred’s hands in his. He brought them to his trembling lips, only aching more at the sight of Alfred’s scraped-up knuckles. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against the man’s skin, voice wobbly and wet. “I-I’ll do whatever it takes to make you trust me again, Alfred. Whatever it takes to make sure we stay together,” he said desperately. 

Alfred was silent for a moment, watching Arthur with so much pain in his eyes--but there was guilt, too, and that made Arthur feel even worse. The idea that Alfred cared so much for him that he felt guilty about making him cry even when Arthur had hurt him so badly only made it abundantly clear to the Brit how much Alfred cared for him, and how thoroughly his actions must be cutting the man. 

“Arthur,” Alfred whispered gently after a moment, and Arthur nearly sobbed in relief when the American wrapped his fingers around Arthur’s before he gently pulled his hands away from the Brit’s lips. Alfred eased their hands to rest on the couch between them, their fingers curled around each other’s. “I don’t want to break up. I-I love you, and as long as you love me too, I’ll wanna be with you... I just need to know that you understand how much it hurt.”

Arthur nodded quickly. “I do, I swear. I’m so sorry, Alfred, I--I should have told you right away, I should have owned up to it. I-I should have never taken away your choice in the matter, I was just so scared and I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone hurting you. I thought if I could keep you in the dark, if you didn’t know about me, that you’d be safe. I should have known they’d use you as bait the second I came for you the first time.”

Alfred shook his head and scooted closer, slipping his hands out of Arthur’s only to immediately slide them across his shoulders, pulling him closer. “I don’t want you to blame yourself for that,” he murmured into Arthur’s hair.  “It wasn’t your fault.”

Arthur whimpered into Alfred’s chest, practically flinging his arms around the American’s neck in his desperation to be close to him. The fear that had seized his heart when Alfred had pulled away from him had been enough to shatter him. That, coupled with the look of utter devastation that had came to Alfred’s face, had been enough to make Arthur loathe himself more than he ever had. The thought of losing Alfred, of having broken Alfred’s trust so thoroughly that he could never regain it, was the most terrifying thing he could imagine. 

Alfred murmured soft, comforting words in Arthur’s hair until the Brit had calmed down enough to breathe evenly. Arthur let out a shaky, relieved sigh, “I’m so sorry, Alfred. I really am.”

Alfred carded his fingers through Arthur’s pale hair. “Promise me you’ll never do it again?”

“I promise,” Arthur replied immediately, nodding frantically against Alfred’s chest.

“Good,” Alfred mumbled, and pulled back to look into his boyfriend’s face. 

Arthur immediately reached out, wiping away the wetness that lingered on Alfred’s face. “That’s enough crying for one night, don’t you think?” He asked gently, a wobbly smile coming to his face. 

Alfred responded with a tired, but obviously sincere, smile of his own. “Yeah,” he nodded, “let’s order some takeout.” 

Arthur let out a sputtered, wet laugh and nodded in agreement. “Large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese, green peppers, and mushrooms?”

“God, I love you,” Alfred responded as he pulled the man in for a kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> this went from being a oneshot to a whole lot more lmao


End file.
